“He would! He’s not who you think he is.”
But they were skeptical. And so was Tuppy. And so was Dale, when I tried to explain the situation in between frying spicy, sizzling fish filet.
Even my former friend Jeremy didn’t seem to give a shit, but as I left City Hall, he hissed at me out of the corner of his mouth.
“Earnest.”
“Huh?”
“Just—Earnest,” he said, darting his eyes toward Cash’s office.
Well, hell. That could only mean that Earnest was on board with whatever Cash was planning and might even be involved in something shady.
Fuck.
Maybe my parents could help. I wasn’t sure in what way, but maybe they had connections and could convince the company to do the right thing?
On my way back home, my body aching and exhausted from being on my feet all day, I called them to see if they’d want to go to dinner.
“Not interested,” Dad said immediately.
“Jillian will be there,” I said, my voice sounding choked. “At least, I hope she will be.”
“Well—” he began.
“And it’s something very important to her,” I added. “I’m doing everything I can to get back together with her.”
“Well. . .” he debated. “Perhaps we’ll send Jillian an invite to dinner on the yacht. And if you’re turning over a new leaf, perhaps you can come too.”
“I’vebeenturning over a new leaf—” I protested, but he was already gone.
“Oh, are you reconciling with your parents?” Christabelle asked, stepping out from the shadows of the pub and running her hands down my biceps.
She stepped closer, her perfume going straight up my nostrils, and her breasts heaving artistically.
But this time the performance only left me nauseated.
She had barely looked at me since my parents very publicly had taken Jillian’s side, which meant the humiliating realization that I’d blown up my marriage for someone I didn’t even like, and was only after me for my money.
“No,” I said immediately. “No. I don’t want you. Period. Not at all.”
“You seemed like you couldn’t resist me before,” she purred.
“No,” I spat out, shaking her off. “Never again.”
The thing was that I couldn’t stop replaying all the memories with Jillian.
And replaying what had happened that day I cheated. Wishing, more than anything, that I’d made better choices.
What had been wrong with me that I thought I neededclosure?
I had been wracking my brains trying to figure out why I had ruined my happy marriage, and I finally knew.
I wasn’t seeking closure. I was seeking one more hit of that adoration dopamine that Christabelle provided. I had to face the ugly, embarrassing truth. My thought process had been so immature.
I had always seen myself as the prize, and it was how people had always treated me too, especially in college, when I had flaunted my family wealth more.
Friends in college had said to me, “Oh come on, man, you’re not really gonna settle down with Jillian, are you?”
